Miss You

Time is my eyes that were mine
before I was born
Time is my mother's eyes
And her mother's eyes
And my daughter's
Looking back from the mirror
Brilliant lavender
And watercolor

Time will scratch and shift and lose its way
Never to be seen again
Time will mold us into something beautiful
Time will sculpt us into something grotesque
We will make friends with time, in time

Time is the gaze on those times
I think I remember
but are only remembered under red hazy skies
___
6/21
Postcard No. 5
Miss You
___
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